Silence is a Virtue
by Settiai
Summary: People had always told him that silence was a virtue. He'd just never listened. :: Rodney/Ronon


The first thing Rodney was aware of as he drifted back into consciousness was a steady rocking motion, one that seemed eerily familiar. He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember why the sensation seemed so recognizable. A few images and names— _Atlantis, a mission, M3G-524, ambush, weapons, blood— _tugged at his mind by the time that he realized that his left shoulder was hurting.

Actually, now that he noticed the pain, Rodney realized that it was quite a few levels past "hurting."

His eyes shot open, and he immediately wished that he hadn't woken up when he found himself with a fairly up close and personal view of what appeared to be Ronon's ass. Normally, that wouldn't exactly have been what Rodney would call a horrible fate. Considering that the view meant he was tossed over Ronon's shoulder, though, Rodney couldn't exactly sit back and enjoy himself. Especially since, between the pain coming from his shoulder and the jostling he was getting, he was quickly starting to feel nauseous.

Rodney did the only thing he could come up with. He groaned.

At the sound, Ronon came to an abrupt stop. Rodney felt a wave of dizziness rush over him as he was lowered to the ground, and he clenched his eyes shut to keep the still-present nausea at bay. He could feel a sharp rock underneath him, pressing into his back, and he did his best to focus on the slight pain that was providing. It was better than the pain in his shoulder, at least.

"McKay?"

Even though Ronon's voice sounded almost as impassive as always, Rodney couldn't help but noticed a tiny hint of _something_ in his tone. Concern? Uncertainty? Worry?

"Rodney?"

_Definitely worry_, Rodney thought wryly. He took a few steadying breaths as he reluctantly opened his eyes, flinching as the sun shone brightly down in them. Whatever happened to the cliché of bad things only happening at night or during storms? He wasn't supposed to get shot on a sunny day when there wasn't a single cloud in the blue— well, okay, it was more green than blue, and those purplish blobs way up there might _possibly _be clouds— sky.

Wait a minute, shot? Why was he assuming that he'd been shot? Okay, so it felt a little like the last two— or was it three?— times, but still. . . .

"Can you hear me?"

Rodney blinked as Ronon's voice finally broke through the haze of panic that had been settling over him. He had a thousand questions, most importantly "what happened?" and "where are the others?", but they all disappeared the moment he saw Ronon. Worry quickly flared up in him as he ran his eyes over his teammate's more-disheveled-than-usual state. He coughed, grimacing as the ache in his shoulder increased exponentially at the moment, and he realized that the rock he was laying on was starting to more irritating than helpful. "Are you okay?" he asked weakly, propping himself up with his good arm.

Ronon stared at him, obviously confused, before glancing down at his bloodstained shirt. Comprehension dawned on his face. "Not mine."

"None of it?" Rodney asked, arching an eyebrow. The rivulet of blood slowly trickling down Ronon's arm was obviously coming from him.

Ronon followed Rodney gaze and shrugged. "Not much," he replied, wiping away the blood with his hand. "Just a scratch."

"You're as bad as Sheppard," Rodney muttered as he. He took a deep breath and twisted his head to look at his shoulder, paling when he saw just how blood-soaked _his_ shirt was. It looked like his assumption about being shot had been correct, not that he had really doubted it. A sudden thought suddenly hit him, and he quickly tore his gaze away from his injury.

"Speaking of which, where is Sheppard?" he asked, not even trying to hide the growing panic in his voice. "And what about Teyla? Did they go on to the Stargate to contact Atlantis? Or are they. . . ."

"Locals captured them," Ronon cut in abruptly.

Rodney pushed himself up into a full-on sitting position, closing his eyes as another wave of dizziness hit him. "Was this before or after I got shot?"

When he opened his eyes, Ronon was staring at him. "What?" Rodney snapped. "Things are still a little blurry."

Ronon narrowed his eyes. "How blurry?"

Rodney took another deep breath and pointedly ignored Ronon's gaze.

"McKay."

Rodney flinched as Ronon growled his name.

"Okay, okay." Rodney started to roll his eyes, but he stopped when that threatened to send him into another dizzy spell. "We were on our way to that village Teyla supposedly traded with before. Sheppard was trying to explain the finer points of _Doctor Who_ to the two of you, and. . ."

He trailed off. "I don't remember what happened after that."

The hint of worry on Ronon's face disappeared almost instantly. "Wasn't anything after that," he said with a shrug.

Rodney blinked. "What do you mean there wasn't anything after that?"

Ronon just shrugged again. "I mean there wasn't anything after that," he repeated. "You went down. Sheppard told me to grab you. I got away. They didn't."

"So we don't know why they attacked us?" Rodney asked slowly.

"Nope."

"Or where the other are?"

Ronon shook his head.

"Do you at least know how far we are from the Stargate?"

This time, Ronon shrugged. "About an hour."

"An hour?" Rodney repeated. He glanced up at the sky, frowning when he noticed that it looked darker than it had when he had first woken up. And that the little purple blobs he had noticed before were most definitely clouds, though the term "little" didn't exactly describe them anymore.

"Oh this is just great," Rodney muttered. "It's getting dark, it's probably going to rain, we're still an hour from the Stargate, Elizabeth's not expecting us for at least another couple of hours, the colonel and Teyla have been captured and taken God knows where. . ."

"Probably the village Teyla was taking us to."

Rodney continued as if he hadn't said a word. ". . .not to mention that I'm probably going to bleed to death before we ever make it to the Stargate!"

"I bandaged it," Ronon said dryly.

Rodney paused at that and slowly reached over with his good hand to poke his wounded shoulder. He flinched, but relaxed a bit when he noticed that there wasn't any new blood pouring from it. "Thanks," he said softly.

Ronon raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome."

After a second or two passed, Rodney cleared his throat. "Okay, so I'm not going to bleed to death," he admitted. "I'll probably die of infection instead."

Ronon rolled his eyes. "If you don't shut up, you're going to lead the villagers right to us."

Rodney clamped his mouth shut almost immediately. When he noticed the amusement on Ronon's face, though, he narrowed his eyes. "Oh, very funny," he grumbled. "They probably aren't even looking for us, are they? You'd be trying to hide our tracks if they were, and it's obvious that you haven't even. . . ."

Rodney was cut off mid-sentence as Ronon suddenly leaned in and kissed him. For just a second, he sat there frozen. One part of his brain was having seriously uncomfortable flashbacks to the whole incident with Cadman, and the other was silently acknowledging that Ronon was a lot smarter than he looked since even Sheppard hadn't been able to find a way to effectively stop him from talking.

And, of course, there was the quiet voice hiding near the back of his mind that kept screaming _kiss him back, you idiot!_ over and over again.

Since the two main parts of his brain weren't exactly giving him much in the way of advice, Rodney couldn't help but listen to the little voice. He stopped resisting, leaning into the kiss just a little. Then, without warning, the Satedan pulled away.

"Now are you going to stay quiet?" Ronon asked, a completely nonplussed look on his face.

Rodney's face was bright red as he gaped at Ronon. Silently.

Shaking his head, Ronon pushed himself to his feet. He held out his hand and waited patiently for Rodney to take it, then carefully helped him to his feet. Rodney bit back a moan as his shoulder protested, but he didn't say a word. When Ronon protectively wrapped an arm around him, helping him keep his shaky balance, he couldn't help but start just a bit. Then he slowly began to smile. Maybe things were going to start looking up after all.

Something that sounded suspiciously like thunder rolled across the darkening sky.

His smiled faded. "You've got to be kidding me," Rodney muttered.

Ronon just chuckled and tightened his grip, keeping Rodney moving in the right direction as it began raining.


End file.
